


Shades of Blue

by someonethatsfunny



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Fluff, M/M, You've been warned, a disgusting amount of fluff, and you'll end up in Home Depot buying excessive amounts of paint, if you read this your teeth will fall out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-02
Updated: 2016-09-02
Packaged: 2018-08-12 14:20:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,970
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7937926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/someonethatsfunny/pseuds/someonethatsfunny
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It started with a drabble prompt and ended up here.  The one where Harry and Louis paint their bedroom. </p><p>This is un-beta'd so any and all mistakes are my own.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shades of Blue

 

“What did you just say to me?”

“I’m just saying that the paint…”

“The paint’s supposed to go _where_ , Harold?”

Harry froze on the ladder he was standing on and watched Louis carefully for his next move. Like a predator circling its prey, Louis’ eyes were narrowed and focused directly upon him.  This was bad. He knew that look in Louis’ eyes quite well and this was very, very bad.

The wheels in Louis’ mind were practically visible, spinning round and round at triple speed. It was almost as if his thoughts could be heard from across the room. _Wanker_ and _curly-haired cunt_ were likely top contenders of descriptive Harry terms currently in the running. There was no doubt Louis was calculating the exact number of steps it would take to reach him, adding up how many seconds each step would take, subtracting time for obstacles such as empty paint canisters and planning the best mode of attack.

The truth is that Louis had every reason to be upset with him. This wasn’t the first time they were painting the bedroom, you see. It wasn’t even the first time painting their room _this week_. Harry squeezed his eyes shut and took a deep breath. It was the third time. _This week_.  And it was all Harry’s fault.

The first time was the one that he probably felt the worst about. When he told Louis he wanted to paint their new bedroom cerulean blue, Louis had surprised him the next day by picking up all the materials while Harry was out. He’d come home to find Louis standing in the midst of all the painting supplies with one wall fully painted.  There was almost as much blue paint on his boyfriend as there was on the wall.

_“Wait. Why are you frowning?  It’s cerulean blue just like you said?”_

Of course Harry couldn’t tell him the real reason why and the first thing that popped in his head was a dirty lie, but he used it anyway.   _“I thought I said cornflower blue, not cerulean.”_  Being dishonest about something so silly made him feel horrible.  So shitty that he actually backpedaled, telling Louis that he liked it well enough, insisting that they keep it. But Louis had just sighed heavily and told him it was no big deal. He wanted Harry to love their first official bedroom together.

So Harry had helped him clean everything up before dragging Louis into the shower and meticulously cleaning as much paint from his skin as he could.  Afterwards, he fucked him into their brand new mattress on a crisp new set of sheets in their bedroom that had one cerulean wall and three pale yellow.

Come to think of it, he felt just as bad about the second time as well. Two days later, he’d walked in the door to an almost identical scene, but this time Louis was covered in cornflower blue. The color was ten times worse.  He’d finished two walls already and had streaks of paint in his hair as well as across his cheeks. Harry actually cringed as he thought back to it now.

Somehow, he’d talked his way out of the doghouse by promising to re-paint the bedroom himself and then he distracted Louis by blowing him in the shower. Afterwards, he laid Louis out on their bed and ate him out until tears leaked from his eyes and he begged Harry to fuck him. So Harry fucked him on their new mattress on not so crisp sheets in their bedroom with two cornflower walls and two pale yellow.

This time he wouldn’t be able to sweet talk or fuck his way out it.  Harry had pushed Louis one step too far and there was no turning back. Why he couldn’t just be grateful for Louis’ help was beyond him. It was his own fault they were painting their room for the third time this week.  Even worse, he was supposed to be doing this one on his own and Louis had generously offered to help him.  So the least he could’ve done was hold his tongue.  Instead, Harry went and opened his big stupid mouth about painting technique of all things. Any method of payback Louis chose to employ now would be justified. Panic began to set in.

Basically Harry had to accept the fact that he was never gonna be able to escape. With a full cup of blue paint in one hand and a wet paintbrush in the other, there’s no way he could make it down the shaky steps in time. He had tenuous balance on the ladder as it was.

As blue eyes appraised him from across the room, the metal began to wobble under his feet. God dammit why did Liam have to be right about everything? _“This ladder is unstable, you know. Should really think about investing in a new one before you start any projects.”_

 _Fuck you, Liam,_ Harry thought. No one asked him in the first place.  And anyway, if he really wanted to help, he’d be here painting with them now. But Liam was nowhere to be found.  It was just him, Louis, a ridiculous number of paint canisters and a shaky ladder.  Louis took one step towards him and the metal shook even harder.

Louis looked like an angry kitten as he approached.  An angry kitten with blue streaks all over it’s fur, that is.  The blue didn’t even have a name anymore; the label just read 28LRAHIL17.  Harry had brought a full stack of photos with him to the paint store and laid them all out on top of the counter for the specialist to use for a match.  The man, who’s name badge said James, had stared at him for a full two minutes before finally speaking and then he’d simply asked, _“You’re fucking serious about this, mate?”_

Harry had blushed furiously which had apparently been enough of an answer for James because without another word, he disappeared behind a wall and returned a short while later with several canisters of the nameless blue paint.  There was a small colored dot on the top of each bucket which James pointed to with his eyebrows raised until Harry smiled back at him.  Then he rang him up with an all-knowing smile upon his lips.  As he handed Harry his receipt, James looked straight at him and said, _“He must be really special.”_

 _“He’s everything,”_ Harry answered immediately, feeling the heat as it spread down his neck.

And that’s how they’d reached this point.  Their new bedroom had three walls painted with blue 28LRAHIL17, one wall pale yellow and a new mattress with no sheets at all.  And Harry was standing on a wobbly ladder with his thighs shaking, clutching onto a plastic cup of blue 28LRAHIL17 paint for dear life, watching with anticipation as his boyfriend slowly circled him, looking very much ready to pounce.

Time stood still for a moment and then all hell broke loose with the specific details too difficult to recall.  One minute Harry stood upon the ladder staring back at Louis and the next, Louis was moving towards him and Harry was airborne with the cup of paint still clutched tightly in his hand.  He recalled expletives being yelled as he fell less than gracefully on top of Louis.  The paint sloshed up out of the cup, covering both of them with a coat of blue 28LRAHIL17.   Louis took the majority of it in the face and in his hair whereas Harry had it splashed up both of his arms and chaotically splattered all over his clothes.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” Louis groaned as he laid trapped beneath Harry’s body like a human-sized smurf.

Harry started giggling helplessly as he took in their surroundings.  The ladder was tipped all the way over against the remaining pale yellow wall.  Blue paint was dripping from it, leaving contrasting streaks clear to the floor.  His boyfriend was an actual smurf now, the two of them laid in a tangled mess of blue upon their new bedroom floor and Jesus Christ, Harry was so ridiculously in love with him that he could do nothing but laugh at the sheer absurdity of the situation.

Louis was shaking with laughter beneath him so the threat of bodily harm was no longer a concern and that was a happy bonus.  They remained there for a while longer, giggling into one another, both of them too exhausted from painting to move.  Eventually Harry propped himself up to look at Louis properly. It was unfair to the rest of the world that Louis somehow managed to still be gorgeous while covered in blue paint.

 _Wow.  It really is an exact match. It’s perfect,_ Harry thought.  Only he must have also spoken out loud because Louis responded to him.

“What?” he asked.

“The paint.” Harry was blushing again. He could feel it and he desperately hoped he had enough paint on himself to cover it up. “I…um…had him mix a few colors together so that the blue would match your eyes.” Okay. It honestly sounded way worse when he said the words out loud.

Louis stared up at him with his mouth wide open for so long that Harry started to think that he actually broke him. “That…” He finally started. “That is genuinely the sappiest thing I have ever heard, Harold.”

And then they were giggling again. Only this time they laughed into one another’s mouths because although it was sappy, it was also disgustingly romantic and needed to be celebrated as such.

Later, after showering the blue 28LRAHIL17 paint off of their bodies, Louis laid out all of their dry available towels on their bed.  Then he fucked Harry on their new mattress in their new bedroom which had three blueygreenybutmostlybluey walls and one pale yellow wall with blue streaks. It was pretty much perfect.

“I can’t believe you made me paint our room three times in one week just so you could match the color to my eyes. I should call Ed Sheeran and commission him to write a song about it.”  The teasing had no bite to it, though because Louis was looking at him like he hung the moon.  And Harry felt like the moon was put there just to highlight his boy’s shine.

“Shut up. You know I think your eyes are beautiful.  And calming. They relax me. Which is kind of perfect for our first bedroom together, don’t you think?”

“Perfectly sappy.”  Louis leaned in and captured Harry’s lips between his own.  “You know what this means, though.  Right?”

“No?” Harry smiled back at him.

“We’re gonna have to paint the kitchen green now.  ‘S only fair.”  Harry’s smile spread even wider as Louis pulled him in tightly against his chest and curled around his backside.  They fell asleep like that, in their unfinished bedroom, happy and content.

It ended up taking eight days, nine canisters of paint, two pairs of Louis’ trackies and three shirts between the two of them to complete the bedroom, but it was worth it in the end.  A few weeks later James color matched the paint for the kitchen as well.  The teasing intensified tenfold when Harry and Louis showed up together hand in hand with a different stack of photos for him to work with. They didn’t mind, though.  It was easy to see that James was endeared by the two of them and meant no harm.  

“We’ll be back someday for help with nursery paint!” Louis yelled in a promise to James as they left the store.  

That night Harry fucked him into their mattress on a clean set of sheets in their bedroom which finally had four matching blueygreenybutmostlybluey walls.

 

_~fin_

 


End file.
